Keeper of Myths

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Keeper of Myths Page 2

by Jasmine Richards


  “And I don’t even know why I came.” Buzz eyed his bike. I’ll just go. Leave Sam to it. But his feet didn’t move.

  Sam was looking at Jack. “Let’s see it then. And then we’ll make the swap.”

  “Ah yes, Brightblade from the 1964 box of Chocoflakes.” Jack pointed at the bag by his feet. “Please help yourself.”

  Sam knelt down to open the bag. His hands trembled.

  Buzz held his breath as Sam unzipped it. He didn’t know what his friend was going to find in the bag, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be Brightblade.

  Sam’s brow crinkled. “There’s nothing in here except an iPad.”

  “Pick it up and press the big white button on the screen,” the older boy said. “It’s all set up.” He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and stared down eagerly at the tablet.

  Buzz realized now why his face looked so familiar. It was Liam Simms’s older brother, Dylan.

  “Hey, I know you,” Sam said at the same time. “Dylan, right? I didn’t know you were into collectibles.” Sam’s frown became even deeper. “Wait, why did you lie about your name?”

  “Into collectibles?” Dylan snorted. “Do I look like a serial loser? Just press call.”

  Sam’s hands were still trembling, but Buzz knew it wasn’t from excitement anymore. His friend touched the screen.

  Liam Simms’s grinning face suddenly appeared.

  “All right there, Sam,” he said. “Happy birthday!”

  “It’s not my birthday,” Sam said.

  “It isn’t?” Liam’s face fell. “When’s your birthday, then?”

  “April first,” Sam replied.

  “What? Actually on April Fool’s Day?” Liam began to laugh. “Oh man, that would have been too perfect. How did I not know that?”

  “What do you want, Liam?” Buzz demanded, peering over Sam’s shoulder.

  “Hey, Buzz, you’re there as well. Ace. Thought you’d be sulking in a corner somewhere.”

  “I don’t sulk,” Buzz said.

  “Whatever,” Liam replied. “Tell Theo to call me if you see him, please.”

  “What do you want?” Buzz asked again.

  “Well, I want to give Sam his birthday present.” Liam wrinkled his nose. “Okay, early birthday present.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “And not exactly present. More like prank.” He leaned in so his whole head filled the screen. “That’s right, Sam. There’s no Brightblade, and there’s definitely no client who wants to swap him for your dorky Dortmeld.” Liam grinned again. “But thanks for that video about how to look after action figures. It’s really fascinating. I wonder if anyone else at school will find it as interesting as I do. Later, losers!” Liam ended the call and Sam dropped the tablet as if it were red hot.

  “Hey! Careful.” Dylan scooped up the tablet and gently placed it in his bag. “I just got that.” He gave a sniggering laugh. “Ah, come on, guys, don’t look so glum. You’ve got to give it to my little brother—it’s a good prank. I taught him well. He even gave me an anagram for my alias. Thought that was a nice touch.”

  Buzz swiftly tried to sort the letters of Jack Pretorial in his head, but Sam was quicker.

  “Practical Joker,” Sam whispered. He shook his head. “I don’t understand. How did Liam know I collected vintage action figures?”

  Dylan zipped his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “I think that boy Theo told him. Doesn’t matter, does it?”

  Sam whirled around to face Buzz. “Yeah, it matters. Because there’s only one person in the whole wide world who knew about my collection.”

  The sinking feeling that had been growing in Buzz’s stomach was taking on Titanic-like proportions.

  “I, er, um—”

  “I can’t believe you told him.”

  “It was only because I was trying to think of a birthday present for you. I thought Theo might have an idea.”

  “Wow, Buzz, you really have changed if you think Theo is capable of having a good idea. He’s a moron.”

  “That’s not true,” Buzz said. “It was once, but not anymore.” He knew defending Theo was not going to help things with Sam, but Theo had changed over the last six months. And the fact was, they had faced down a rampaging, power-hungry god together. Buzz couldn’t help that Theo was his friend now.

  “You’re a fool, you know that? The only reason Theo is even hanging out with you is because he’s got a crush on Tia.”

  No way, Buzz thought. His sister was two years older than Theo, and whenever their paths crossed she treated him like something she had accidently stepped in.

  “Listen, I’m sure it was an innocent mistake that he told Liam. He really was interested in helping me find a present for your birthday.”

  “Buzz, there’s only one gift I want from you, and that’s for you to leave me alone. Permanently.”

  “Sam, please—”

  “Okay, guys, as entertaining as this little domestic argument is, I’ve got to be going,” Dylan interjected. “But it’s been a blast. Thanks.”

  He ambled away, up the paved path, his bag swinging from his shoulder.

  Sam stared after him. A bead of sweat crested on his brow. His whole body began to tremble.

  Buzz sniffed. He could smell something acrid and sharp, and his throat felt scratchy. He looked down to see that Dortmeld’s plastic case was melting in Sam’s grip. Dortmeld did not look happy about it.

  There was a yelp followed by a curse, and looking up, Buzz saw Dylan throw his bag to the ground and begin to stamp on it.

  It was on fire.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Watch Your Back

  Buzz had seen enough strange things on his quest to find the Runes of Valhalla to know when magic was being used. And he was pretty sure that this magic was coming from Sam. He grabbed his friend by his shoulders and shook him.

  “Stop it, Sam,” he hissed as he dragged his friend to one side. “Whatever you’re doing, stop it.” Sam’s skin was furnace-hot beneath Buzz’s palms. Buzz could feel the fierce heat even through the thickness of Sam’s jacket. “You’re going to hurt Dylan or yourself.”

  Sam blinked for a moment, then dropped Dortmeld to the ground. The charred case bounced across the grass, then rolled to a stop in a smoking heap of twisted plastic.

  Buzz looked over at Dylan. The older boy didn’t look hurt, and the flames in his bag were swiftly dying down. A small audience of park visitors had gathered around him, and a few of them were helpfully emptying their water bottles over Dylan and his bag. Sopping wet and shivering in the spring sunshine, Dylan tipped what was left of his bag upside down, and a very melted iPad flopped onto the grass.

  Sam was still blinking hard, as if he had just emerged from a dark room. “W-w-what happened?” he stuttered.

  “You tell me.” Buzz kept his voice low. “I’m pretty sure you torched Dylan’s bag and you nuked Dortmeld.”

  Sam shook his head. “I just wanted to wipe that smile off Dylan’s face. He said that he’d had a blast and it really made me want to blast him.”

  “Okay, well, you did that,” Buzz said, “and a bit more besides. But how?”

  “I don’t know.” Sam was hugging his arms. “I don’t know why this is happening to me.”

  Buzz felt a tingle of excitement go up his spine as he stared at his friend. At last something extraordinary was happening. It felt like he was waking from deep hibernation.

  “Mate, quit looking at me like that,” Sam said. “I’m not some kind of raffle prize.” He scooped up the melted Dortmeld with a little mew of distress and shoved it in his bag. “I’ve gotta get out of here.”

  “Wait, I’ll come with you. We can talk about what happened. Try to work out what’s going on.”

  Sam whirled around to face him. “You should be freaked out.” His eyes were large and panicked. “A normal person would be freaked out. Why aren’t you freaked out?”

  Buzz shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe it’s not the first time I’ve
seen magical stuff like that.”

  “I knew it.” Sam’s hands clenched into fists. “I knew something strange had happened to you, and you told me there was nothing going on.”

  “Come on, you didn’t tell me you could make fire appear out of thin air,” Buzz pointed out. “We both had secrets. We’re even.”

  “This thing.” Sam’s whole body shook. “Whatever it is. Only started a few days ago, and it’s never been like this. So no, we’re not even. You’ve been lying to me for months.” He took a step backward. “I’m going home.”

  “Fine, let’s go.”

  Sam shook his head. “I meant what I said before. Leave me alone. I’m done with you.”

  “Sam, come on. I’m sorry. I’ll tell you everything that happened,” Buzz said. “Just let me help you.”

  “I don’t need your help. Just stay away, Buzz. It will be safer for you.”

  Sam turned and ran from the park, his duffel bag slapping against his side.

  “Sam!” Buzz cried. “Wait.” But Sam was already a small, retreating figure on the other side of the common.

  Buzz sank back on the bench and scrubbed at his face, wondering what he should do. Sam will calm down, he thought. And when he does, we’ll talk.

  Buzz’s cell bleeped, and he took it from his pocket. It was a text message from Mary.

  Just landed. Can’t wait to catch up.

  Buzz felt a stab of guilt. He hadn’t exactly been avoiding Mary’s calls and messages, but he hadn’t exactly been available either. Talking about the runes or their adventures was just too depressing. Now she was actually coming back to Crowmarsh, and there was nowhere to hide.

  Yeah, see you later, Buzz texted back.

  But first I need to get Sam some help. And he knew just the person. Dad. Buzz jumped to his feet and grabbed his bike. His father was a world-famous professor of mythology, after all, and he’d been the human host for Odin, father of the Norse gods, while Buzz had been searching for the Runes of Valhalla. Dad had experience with magical powers, he understood what it was like to have them, and he’d know what was going on with Sam.

  Buzz quickly wheeled his bike out of the park and onto the road, and then he jumped on and began to pedal hard down the high street. The shops, cafés, and banks of the town became a blur as Buzz made his way home.

  He’d almost reached the end of the road when a huge black Jeep shot out from an intersection and swerved in front of him. Just before he squeezed the brakes, Buzz caught a glimpse of the driver: white-blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and a high-necked collar pinned with some kind of ivory, fang-shaped brooch that shone brightly. His bike skidded out from beneath him and the paved road rushed up in greeting, followed by a shooting pain in his hip.

  Buzz groaned softly and turned to see the bike lying beside him, wheels still turning but now with a pitifully weary creak. He forced himself to his feet. He hurt, but lying in the middle of a road was not going to improve the situation, especially if a car ran him over. Hobbling forward, he wheeled his bike onto the pavement.

  “Young man, are you okay?” a deep-sounding voice asked.

  Buzz nodded, doing his best to keep the surprise from his face as he noticed that the man speaking to him was wearing a thick, velvety blue cloak with a voluminous hood. Beneath that, a furry hat with earflaps peeped out. The man’s face was almost completely obscured by the shadow of the hood and it was hard to tell exactly how old he was.

  “You’re admiring my hat, I can see.” The man jiggled on the spot to keep warm, and it made his earflaps dance. “I’m afraid I can’t lend it to you. It’s far too cold in this world.”

  “I’m fine, thank you,” Buzz said. “I’m not cold. I’m just annoyed. She didn’t even stop to say sorry.”

  Both the man and Buzz watched the black Jeep continue to tear down the street and then screech to a halt in front of the old post office.

  “She has no respect,” the man said. “Coming here, taking what she wants, no doubt gathering up the payments as she goes.” Buzz’s companion tutted. “Some things never change.” He turned to Buzz, hazel eyes peering out from beneath the hood. “Stay away from that woman and her companions—they’re dangerous. And while you’re at it, watch your back for the whistling stranger.”

  “I don’t understand—” Buzz began.

  “And I’m afraid I can’t stay to explain. It’s too risky. Just watch yourself and those close to you, understood?” The man pulled his heavy cloak more tightly around himself and strode away. Buzz blinked and then lost sight of him entirely.

  Weird, Buzz thought. Weird outfit, weird guy.

  He wheeled his bike along the sidewalk. The front rim was all bent out of shape, and his hip ached. He stopped in front of the old post office, and his anger throbbed even more than his injured side as he watched the woman who’d caused his accident striding into the building. She didn’t even look in his direction. She should apologize, Buzz thought. She can’t go around driving like that. No wonder that man said that she was dangerous.

  Now that Buzz was closer, he could see that there were even more Jeeps, most of them parked up the side of the large brick building. Each one had the word “PANTHEON” emblazoned on the side in large gold letters, and underneath that was a symbol of a disc under an arch of fire. The old wooden doors of the post office were wide open, and the shutters were up. The building had been closed for as long as Buzz had been alive—it was a vast, sprawling space, and no one knew what to do with it, so they’d shut it up and left it to rot.

  People wearing white tunics and slacks were busy unloading the Jeeps, which gleamed like a line of scarab beetles in the afternoon sunlight. They carried several ornately carved chests into the building.

  These people aren’t from Crowmarsh, Buzz thought. Who are they?

  He wheeled his bike a bit closer so he could peep in through one of the dusty windows. He scrubbed at the glass with the edge of his sleeve and, looking in, saw that rows of tables had been set up, and yet more people dressed in white were busy carving letters into green stone discs. A huge map of Crowmarsh had been mounted on the wall, with a sea of red pins embedded in the paper.

  Somewhere to his left, he heard the click-clack of heels on the sidewalk. “Can I help you?” a silky female voice asked.

  Buzz looked up. It was the woman who’d knocked him off his bike.

  “I— I—” Buzz found that he couldn’t get his words out. He wanted to say something about his bruised hip or tell her how his bike was all twisted up because of her crazy driving. Even more, he wanted to ask what was going on in the post office, but something about the intensity of her gaze robbed him of the ability to say anything at all.

  The lady smirked. “No, I thought not. Run along now, boy, it’s not nice to snoop, and you’ll be late for dinner I’m sure.” She turned and left him, her long ponytail swinging.

  Buzz wheeled his bike away obediently. It was only when he was almost at his house that he stopped. “What just happened?” he asked out loud. The trees that surrounded his home swallowed up his words but gave no answers. How did she make me do that? Just walk away. A shiver went through him as he remembered the warning he’d been given by the strange man on the street. Maybe when he’d called her and her people dangerous, he hadn’t been referring to her driving at all.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Gone

  From farther up the garden path that led to his house, Buzz heard his front door slam and the sound of whistling. He spotted a man doubled over with age. His clothes were worn and dirty and his hair was wild and white. The man’s whistling stopped, and he looked at Buzz with green eyes that were eager and excited.

  There was a frantic scrabbling at the latch and then the front door was yanked open to reveal Buzz’s mum standing in the doorway. Buzz was struck for a moment by how tired and thin she looked. When had that happened? Why hadn’t he noticed before? His mum was glaring at the old man, but beneath the anger Buzz could see that his mum was sca
red.

  “We had a deal,” she said. “Get out of here.”

  The old man inclined his head, began whistling again, and then stepped off the path and into the trees. In a second he had completely disappeared from sight.

  “Mum, what’s going on?” Buzz demanded.

  Natasha Buzzard rubbed roughly at her face with both hands. “Nothing. Well, not nothing. A big thing, actually, but we’re going to sort it. We will. We have to.”

  “Sort what?” Buzz pressed.

  “Please just get in the house.” She peered into the woods, her dark eyes wide with fear, and Buzz could see her pulse jumping at the base of her throat.

  “Mum, tell me!”

  “Okay, okay. Just get in here.” Her voice was choked with tears.

  Buzz tried to prop his bike against the front garden wall, but it kept falling over because the wheels were so twisted.

  “What on earth happened to your bike?” his mum asked, and for a moment she sounded like her normal self. “Oh, it doesn’t matter. Just bring it inside.”

  Buzz had already been worried, but now he was properly freaked out. His mum never allowed bikes in the house. She always said that the only mud she wanted to deal with was the soil she sifted through when searching for a rare plant. He picked up the bike and brought it into the house. His mum slammed the door behind him.

  He noticed right away that the house smelled earthy, and the floor was covered in a thick layer of leaves and vines.

  “Okay, Mum, you need to start talking. I know you sometimes bring work home with you, but this is ridiculous. And who was that whistling guy?”

  Whistling. Wait. He’d been warned about that, too.

  His mum sank down on the stairs in the hallway. “Buzz, do you believe in magic?”

  Buzz felt a bolt of surprise go through him. “You know about Sam? How?”

  “Sam?” Buzz’s mum repeated. She looked confused. “This has nothing to do with Sam. It’s to do with me and a stupid promise I made so that I could get home to you all.”

  Buzz sat down next to his mother, noticing that the vines on the ground were actually alive. And not just alive—they were slowly creeping up toward the stairs. No normal plant he knew of grew that quickly.

 

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